Learn to be Lonely
by Scarletquillraven
Summary: Just a quick oneshotmonologue that takes place after Christine and Raoul leave. Inspired by the words of the song that plays during the end credits of the 2004 movie. erik's POV. R&R!


I have learned to be lonely. Never in my lifetime has anyone showed any compassion to me until this night.

And then it ended.

My mother was afraid of me. From the beginning of my life, she shrank away from my touch and was terrified of my genius. I would sing, and she would leave the room, afraid of what she might hear. "I have given birth to a monster." I heard her say to herself one night.

But no, I'm not correct in saying tonight was the dawn of kindness in my world of never-ending night. I remember a girl, a few years older than I.

Many of my later childhood days were the same. I was awoken by the sounds of angry nagging. I would go about doing my normal chores. I was never allowed to do anything that involved people or their food. The gypsies were too afraid I would poison them. I would often groom or feed the few exotic animals that traveled with the fair. I remember brushing the mane of a zebra or giving a parrot fresh food and thinking "Such s beautiful thing should not be forced to stay in so cruel a place." I was always astonished but grateful for those wonderful creatures. On hot days, when no other living human was in sight, I would remove my stuffy mask while I worked. When I did so, the animals never seemed to notice a difference. They would stand calmly and allow me to stroke them still, as always.

As for the rest of my day, I would be shown to a group of people who were looking for some sick form of entertainment. And once they had all turned and fled from my tent I would be alone with my drunken master. I would be beaten for some unknown crime. Every night I would go to sleep with fresh pain.

In the midst of this impossible swirl of torture and hate came a savior in the form of a ballerina-in-trained named Antoinette Giry. She was like a rescue boat to the hopeless stranded survivors of a shipwreck. She led me to the place where I could live and create in a decent amount of security. For so many years I was content.

And then there was another girl, a young dancer. Yet I was the only one who truly saw her potential as a singer.

I found myself listening to her prayers one night, her plea for an angel . . . an angel of music.

At first I was simply a teacher, and she was my student, but as time went on . . .

It started with an unexplainable compulsion to sit behind the mirror at the dead of night and listen watch her sleep. I tried to convince myself that I was only insuring that she had the proper amount of sleep and other matters that concerned her overall well-being. Soon, I stayed for more than a few minutes, and then before I knew it I would be there for an hour or more, just watching her steady breathing and wondering what she dreamt of.

I could not pull myself from, the deep waters of dangerous obsession. I realized too late that I was sinking. I spent every moment thinking about her. I became restless and found it difficult to stay in my dark home alone like I had become so accustomed to.

I remember the first night that she fell asleep directly after a lesson. I had made her work harder than I ever had before and she collapsed, utterly exhausted. There I held her, relishing the feel of her weight on my arms.

On this night, that has all been ripped so mercilessly away from me. A million lashes with Javert's whip would not be anything compared to the pain I feel now. The sheer agony . . .

I do not believe now that Mme. Giry's act of kindness was truly that. She meant all the goodness in the world, but had she not been so full of pity and love I never would have felt this, I would have been spared of this emptiness beyond imagination.

I know now that I must accept this emptiness. It has been there all my life, since my birth, yet I have chosen to ignore it and insist that I could overcome it and reach a higher place.

My heart is alone, for no one on this earth could ever love a thing like me.

I must remember that few people will ever care for me. I must fend for myself. I must learn to find my way in the darkness of my ever-present sorrow.

Perhaps one day I will learn to laugh despite my loneliness. Maybe one day I will be happy.

That gives me something to hope for. One day I hope to learn how to laugh alone.

When one is so lonely, one cannot do much else outside of hope.

I have learned to be lonely.


End file.
